I find a series of paper fragments in an old spiral bound notebook that I formerly lived in. Each is of a different size and of a varying character. Most are featured on the distinctive college ruled paper that lines Mead notebooks. Others are written on dirty flower-patterned napkins from second rate diners. One note is featured on the type of thick art paper that is designed to preserve works. Ironically, this note is the most illegible of them all.
As with many of the items that I have collected, these notes refuse the typical means of usage. Arguably, they serve a series of functions that I deny. They relay a message of noted brevity, and provide a means for future contact. They provide a forum for interaction. In addition, they could be used as an assertion of “manhood.” I am sure that my father would be satisfied with their acquisition. Yet, I have no desire to use these notes to satisfy these ends. Despite the uselessness of these notes, I am reluctant to get rid of them.
I feel as though they could potentially represent a trend. If I had appropriately documented the acquisition of each note, I am sure that I would be able to read my appeal in the form of a chart or graph. Hypothetically I would be able to document the level of attraction that I exude throughout varying months, and under diverse circumstances. These notes suggest the possibility of researching a more successful methodology of interaction. It is entirely possible that I am more attractive during the winter months (November and December), than in the summer (July or August). For unexplained reasons, I seem to receive more notes when I am burdened with education and self-development. I am left wondering whether stress, anxiety, and perpetual midnight encounters are not actually more appealing.
If I survey different locations and age ranges, I am sure that I could efficiently calculate a more effective means of approaching certain types of females. If I eat at Linda’s at night, I am sure to attract females of ages 19-20, but only if I am studying extensively, or working on an art project. I must go elsewhere to garner the attention of older crowds.
Inevitably, I am the control in this experiment. I am entirely consistent. When at Linda’s, I am generally involved in one of two acts. I either spend an extensive amount of time working on personal endeavors (writing, drawing, painting with watercolors) or, on the other hand, I drink coffee and converse with close friends. The actions vary little. I am inevitably a creature of habit. I don’t engage people at other tables in petty conversation. Simply, I mind my own business.
It is interesting to consider what the evidence suggests; that attraction is not necessarily spontaneous, as the movies, and other forms of popular culture suggest. The reception rates indicate a trend. There are ups, downs, and substantial lull periods. Attraction is somewhat predictable.
Disposed of on June 20, 2007
